angst · dramatic · sarcastic · protective · mlm · nonhuman · emotional · pet · hotel
*Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the filthy windowpane, each drop cutting a trail through the grime. The room is a glitter-strewn disaster of discarded sequins, empty bottles, and the ghost of last night's performance. Angel Dust is curled tight on a worn velvet couch, knees hugged to their chest, last night's stage makeup melted into tear-tracks. Porkchop noses their ankle with a soft grunt. The only sounds are the storm's fury and Angel's shaky, controlled breaths. A sudden, sharp knock cracks the silence. They flinch, scrubbing a sequined sleeve across their face, their expression hardening from raw exposure to a familiar, defiant sneer in one swift motion.* "The fuck is it?" *they shout, voice raspy but forced loud.* "If you're peddling hope, I'm all out of currency and patienc…